The Rationality of the Preemptive Strike
by Sam-Tony
Summary: After Spencer ignores both Hotch and Morgan's orders and confronts the Fisher King himself, someone gets a spanking. 8 in the Silver Chains Universe my muse has skipped far ahead. Foursome, mm Ms, kink pinkthings read if you dare.


The Rationality of the Preemptive Strike

Spencer moved from one end of the utilitarian counter that served as the BAU's office kitchen of sorts - complete with refrigerator, microwave, double sink and the all important coffeemaker - to the other, making sure to replace the pot firmly on the burner as the new pot began to gurgle. Though he had only been in the office for an hour, he was already on his third cup and it was still shy of 8 am; but then, he supposed he needed all the help he could get.

He hadn't gotten much sleep last night.

Blowing gently over the rim of his cup, smiling as the aromatic steam curled up around his nose to tease him with the dark rich flavor, Spencer couldn't help taking a furtive glance around the rest of the pen, thankful no one else had arrived yet to see his blush. Because, while he had been in bed – at least part of the time – he had neither been sleeping, nor had he been alone. In fact, if he were to be made to hazard a guess, he would estimate, on the whole, he had probably only gotten 3 hours worth of actual sleep. Maybe less.

Because he remembered snuggling into Jason's arms, staring blurry-eyed at the blue numbers glowing out of the darkness reading 2:47am as Hotch shifted behind him, the arm thrown over his hip tightening, pulling him back as Spencer inadvertently moved away.

He was certainly feeling the extent of that remembered possessiveness as he sat down at his desk. Making sure to sit gingerly, Spencer smothered a wince by taking a tentative sip of his coffee as his sore backside shifted in his chair, _despite_ the fact that someone had been thoughtful enough to leave an extra cushion in the seat. It was a toss up really as to which it had been. Gideon took care of them, but it had been Hotch and Morgan who hadn't been able to get enough of his body last night, and between the punishment and the furious possession, Spencer was beginning to feel as if maybe he should have worn extra padding _inside_ his cords today.

Spencer sighed. And Morgan…well Morgan was new to the equation, so…maybe.

The funny thing was, when he walked out of cover in Garner's mansion and handed his gun to the helmeted and kevlared officer, Spencer had had only one thought in mind. Form a connection with the unsub; show Garner that they understood and that his daughter was a real, living, breathing person and not some nebulous Grail to be sacrificed to a failed quest. He barely heard Hotch hissing at him; barely heard Morgan's frustrated bark of his name as the older agent crossed the hall behind him to keep him covered. All that mattered was that they weren't going to take the self-styled Fisher King down with flack jackets and auto fire.

He hadn't been thinking about overprotective lovers; he had merely been doing his job.

Spencer sighed, setting his coffee to the side and reaching for his notes to type up on the case. In the end, he had been unable to persuade Garner to trust him and the question he had asked had been the wrong one. Or perhaps he had been right the first time and there hadn't been a right question at all, he could never be certain. Because in the end, Garner had pressed the button and detonated the bomb he had been wearing, sending Spencer diving back out into the hallway just in time to avoid the concussion blast of heat and pressure as fire and debris rained down around him where he lay covering his head in his arms on the thin rug of the hallway floor. He had cried out as he felt the burning through his pants, Morgan quickly grabbing something to smother the flames flickering on his lower legs.

Staggering down the stairs, they had managed to rescue Garner's daughter Rebecca from the basement dungeon she had been kept in for the last two years and get out of the burning manse before the old building burned down to a hollowed and blackened shell of it's former glory, taking Garner in fire; just like the one he had escaped years ago.

Even by the flickering orange light of the fire, Spencer had known that while the other agents on the scene were coming up to him with pats on the back and congratulations, Hotch and Morgan hadn't been quite as ready to sing his praises. In fact, judging from the tightly controlled way that Hotch was holding himself, standing a few feet away, the SSA was furious. And while Morgan's anger was more visible from the pacing and sharp glares he had thrown Spencer's way, the younger man had had no clue what it was he had done to earn that rage from either man.

It had taken Gideon coming home from the hospital with both Hotch _and_ Morgan in tow for Spencer to realize that maybe it had been something he had done, personally, rather than some aspect of the case that he had been missing. It had been halfway through the session with the Cat that it had hit him, his naked body draped over the bed with his equally bare bottom raised for the next strike of leather on skin that it had been, not something he had done wrong, but rather something he had done _right._ And the fact that that something he had done _right_ had scared, not only Hotch, but Morgan as well.

Somehow Jason had known the exact moment he had reached this epiphany and allowed Hotch only enough strokes to round up the count at fifteen before calling enough and turning the whip over to Morgan for his own round of fifteen. After that it had been cool gel and fingers inside of him while Derek rolled him on his side and kissed him for the first time, Aaron already lining up behind and pushing in deep while Spencer relished the feeling of being held and possessed between the two men.

Morgan had been next, rolling them over until he had Spencer beneath him on his stomach, caged by his arms and covered by Morgan's body from neck to knee. Unable to do more than pant for breath as Morgan began to roll his hips, Spencer held on for the ride, whimpering in frustration when the ring and spreader caging him prevented him from following Morgan down into to the depths of orgasm.

Jason had been the last, easing into his wired and worn out body and raining gentle kisses on the back of his neck, whispering words of encouragement and comfort. Tightening his arms around Spencer and bringing him up flush against him on his knees, Jason had mapped his hands up his arms, down his chest and along his inner thighs before removing the restraints and speaking that welcome command: "Come for me, sweet boy."

Now, hours later, Spencer could still feel the bone-deep satisfaction humming through his blood and sapping his energy. He was too tired and sore at the moment to work out the psychology of it, but the way they had watched him - being the sole focus of their combined, undivided attention…Spencer sighed. Never had he felt so loved, so cherished as he had while being used, abused and otherwise manhandled by his two, now three, lovers.

And that was something else entirely. What were they going to do about Morgan? If he were honest with himself, Spencer could admit he was attracted to the older agent. After all, Morgan was everything Spencer felt he wasn't: confident, suave, sexy. Gorgeous, hot. A good friend, yes – but Spencer didn't love him.

He might be falling in love with Hotch. Maybe. Probably. The sadness in the dark eyes that he so badly wanted to erase. The unexpected laugh or dimpled smile. The intensity that needed an outlet or he would explode. The darkness that needed the same. Spencer sighed. Definitely falling in love, he knew. It was just a matter of time.

He knew, also, that the one man he absolutely _did _love, was Gideon. It wasn't just the trappings of a life with voluntary chains either, though Spencer was never freer than when he was able to put aside everything, give himself over and just fall under Gideon's sure hand. No, what Spencer loved most wasn't about the sex or the release; it was about Jason cooking in the kitchen, jazz on the radio and fragrant steam from the homemade pasta and alfredo sauce filling the air. Or the way they would curl up together and immediately fall asleep after it had taken everything they had just to make it to the bed.

The way they watched old, obscure or just odd movies, debating the merits of actually filming a scene versus the use of blue screen and digital photography. Or the weekend baseball game that Jason swore couldn't be missed, only to be lured away by the warm spring sunshine and the fact that Spencer had never gone parasailing before.

The way that Spencer had never once questioned the fact that he would have put himself in the older man's hands last night, no matter who had walked through that door with him.

He had never known anyone he could trust to know him as well as Gideon knew him. And Gideon knew him.

A hand on his head startled him out of his thoughts.

Gideon stood over him, an unreadable expression on his face. It was clear from his tone that last night wasn't over yet. "My office, now."

Spencer nodded "Yes sir," and followed the older man up the half-flight of stairs. Once there, Spencer noticed the blinds had already been drawn, leaving them in a cocoon of privacy once Gideon closed his door.

"Kneel."

The command, though rarely used and never once at the office, had been so ingrained over the last few months that obeying it was as natural as breathing. Spencer sank to his knees in one fluid, graceful movement, hands behind his back and head down once they touched the floor. He could sense Gideon circling him; hear his footsteps, slow and muffled by the well-worn carpet; could feel the intent gaze on his shoulders, weighted and measuring as his Master studied him.

"How are you?"

That hand once more rested as if in benediction, fingers carding through his hair and Spencer savored the touch as well as the question before answering honestly, "I'm fine, Sir. A little sore." The wry admission torn from him, Gideon's snort made him smile. "But considering you guys put me through the ringer ending not more than five hours ago, I'm surprisingly good." And he realized with a sense of contentment that he was.

Having returned from escorting his mother back home to Nevada on the BAU's private plane, straight into the arms of his lovers for an impromptu session, he had woken this morning feeling freer than he had in a long time. The growing weight of depression and frustration from both the case and his mother's unexpected visit had vanished as completely as if it had never been.

He looked up to see Gideon's knowing smile. "Not too much?"

Spencer shook his head. "No." The strong fingers continued stroking through his hair and Spencer leaned into the caress. "Well…almost. But, no. I'm fine, Master."

"Good. I'm sorry I left you, Spencer," Gideon admitted. "I'm sorry that I wasn't here when you needed me."

So this was why the Scene - the older man felt guilty, and not just about the case. Because, for good or ill, the rumor mill would churn and the truth about Doctor Spencer Reid's schizophrenic mother would be known to every agent in this building by the end of the day, if it wasn't already.

Spencer sighed, feeling a little bit of that weight return. "I had to make sure she wasn't a target."

The hand petting him sifted through the long strands of his hair one more time before cupping the back of his head. "It was a valid concern, " Gideon confirmed softly. "You made the right decision bringing her here."

But despite having come to that same conclusion himself, Spencer wasn't so sure. "Did I? I mean, she was never in any danger."

"You didn't know that."

Which was true. At the time, finding out his mother had not only known the unsub but had lived in the same institution, he had thought she might still be on Garner's list. Nodding, Spencer let out a breath. "No. I couldn't be sure."

"It was a call I would have made," Gideon assured him. "And you shouldn't have had to go through that alone. I haven't been myself the last couple of days, Spencer and again, I'm sorry."

"It's ok," Spencer told him. "You were at the hospital. You – I…Master…" he frowned, not knowing how to phrase what he wanted to say in the mindset of where he was, currently on his knees.

Only to have Gideon's knowing chuckle roll over him. "It's alright, sweet boy. Say it."

Spencer sighed in relief. "Purple."

Gideon only nodded.

There had been times that each of them had needed to break out of the rare Master/slave roll – a pause in a way, that had nothing to do with the scene itself - and, as a consequence, only needed to speak another type of safe word. His was purple – Jason's personal, joking reference to the purple scarf Spencer was so fond of. Gideon's was blue, Aaron's white.

Although this wasn't a big part of who they were, it was what was needed after the missteps of the last few days. With the unsub stripping away bits and pieces of their private lives to use to his own advantage, they had all been on the edge and Spencer for one had welcomed the added security of knowing the rules, at least for a while.

And having lost control. Gideon had needed to find it again…

"I know why you had to stay with Elle," Spencer told him. "To be the one who stayed at the hospital. Because you had to call that press conference; you had to lure the unsub out of hiding and into making a mistake."

"It – "

But Spencer wouldn't be swayed. As much as he knew why the older man had done it, Gideon needed to hear all of the reasons why from someone else - not just in his own head, in his own voice. " - was the right decision," he insisted. "You are our leader, the decision had to be made and you had to be the one to make it. Not only was Rebecca's life at stake but he knew things from our own lives that put our own families in danger." Spencer looked up at him. "That put _us_ in danger."

"Things he shouldn't have known."

Spencer dropped his head, feeling the fingers tugs at the long strands. "Things he shouldn't have known. Wouldn't have if I hadn't told my mother all that I had…"

"No, Spencer." Taking a deep breath, Gideon shook his head. "No I doubt you gave your mother the address to my cabin in the woods. Or Hotch or Elle's home. None of this is your fault for wanting a tangible connection to your mother."

Despite the reminder that maybe that wasn't really what he wanted at all, otherwise he would visit her more often than he did, Spencer let it go. For now. Eventually though he would have to deal with his feelings of guilt and remorse, one way or the other. Now though, he changed the subject.

"If you had –" wincing, Spencer tried again, "- would you have let me go in? To Garner's study I mean." After all, if Gideon had been in that hallway, he may have called him back and for Jason, Spencer would have remained with the others behind the relative safety of the plastered and papered walls. And who knew what would have happened then?

"I don't know," he admitted, clearly conflicted.

Spencer nodded. On the one hand, everything – every clue they had - all pointed to the fact that it was Spencer who Garner had placed in the role of Sir Percival, Quest Hero. Who knew what would have happened if one of the others had approached that study instead of Diana Reid's son? He might have detonated the bomb right then. On the other hand, Spencer wasn't the only one Gideon strove to protect – another reason Gideon chose to stay at the hospital on the off chance Garner found out Elle had survived and wanted to complete his lesson on 'rules'.

"Then I'm glad you weren't there to pull me back," Spencer told him honestly. "I had to save her, Jason. Garner himself said so."

"'The youngest holds the key – help him save her'," Gideon mused thoughtfully, quoting from the notes they had received.

"Exactly."

"Blue, " Gideon sighed and the sudden change in the air had Spencer looking up at the older man, perched at ease on the edge of his desk. The dark eyes fairly shone with amusement as he asked, "If you had to do it all over again?"

The question asked, Spencer was certain, with the sole purpose of reminding him of his sore bottom. Which it did, unfortunately. Still, worn out body aside, his answer was definitive. "I would."

"Good," was all the older man said, but Spencer could tell that Jason meant it. "You weren't being punished for doing something wrong, Spencer. Just for scaring Hotch and Morgan to death."

"I know. I realized that around 2am this morning after Morgan had beaten my butt red and Hotch kept rubbing my back to make it better."

"Did he?" Gideon asked mildly, curious.

"Until he took over and did his best to make sure I never walked without a limp again," he complained ruefully.

Gideon laughed. "There is that. Damn beautiful sight though."

Spencer blushed even as he smiled. While not having seen himself with Morgan, he admitted that the sight of Morgan and Hotch fighting over Gideon's cock while he had been made to sit and watch, had definitely qualified as a beautiful sight.

"Though I don't think Morgan will be joining us on a regular basis."

Spencer nodded thoughtfully, thinking it through. "We aren't what he needs."

"Or who," Gideon chuckled. "No, we aren't."

And maybe that was what had been eluding Spencer all morning. Morgan had just fit so well with them last night that Spencer hadn't thought much about it. Hadn't thought much beyond the next stinging burn of the multi-tailed whip or the next heavy, full burn of possession to be honest. Now that he had, Spencer had to admit Gideon was right. While they were right for each other, the three of them, they weren't right for Morgan.

Spencer quirked his lips in a smug grin. That didn't mean they couldn't keep him entertained along the way until he found what he was looking for.

"I know that look, " Jason admonished lightly. "Play nice, Spencer."

"Of course, Master," Spencer acquiesced.

"Incorrigible," Gideon only shook his head fondly before calling Hotch and Morgan in to join them. Spencer stayed where he was on the floor.

Stepping through the door, Morgan froze at the sight of Spencer on his knees before shaking himself out of the momentary stupor to take a seat in one of Gideon's guest chairs. "I will never get used to seeing that," he shook his head, only to blink and add, "or that" when Hotch joined Spencer on the floor.

Smiling down at Aaron while running a hand through the dark hair, Gideon looked at Morgan. Despite knowing that he would most likely decline, he offered sincerely, "You don't have to, you know."

All but unreadable himself, Morgan raised an eyebrow, taking the statement at face value. "You serious?"

The older man only nodded. "Very."

Rather than respond immediately, Gideon was pleased to see Morgan settle back in the red leather armchair, watching the three of them closely. It was clear that the self-styled Casanova had at least thought about it. But would he come to the same conclusion Gideon and Spencer had?

Finally, Morgan let out a slow breath. "Look, " he said, leaning forward in earnest. "Anyone can see you guys are heading into a relationship here. A serious one. It's not something I'm looking for right now and I won't break up what you three have just to get my rocks off. I care too much about our friendship for that."

More serene than he had been in days, Gideon offered with an open smile, "What if we were to say that you wouldn't be breaking up anything and that we would be honored to accept the pleasure of your company until you figure out just what it is you are looking for?"

That eyebrow rose again, this time dangerously. "We?"

But it was Hotch who nodded. "We. I know it doesn't seem like it from last night, but we are all equals in this, Derek. Sometimes we just need a reminder that we're not alone anymore."

"And that pulling dangerous, harebrained stunts could land you a whipping, hey kid?" Morgan smiled at Spencer, obviously feeling a bit better knowing that, with everything, these were still his coworkers, his friends. Not so very different from the men he had thought he knew a few days ago after all.

Before Spencer could answer the familiar teasing, JJ's voice came over the inter-office system from Gideon's phone. "Gideon?"

Pushing off from the corner of his desk, Gideon turned and pressed the button. "I'm here, JJ. What have you got?"

"New case, " she told him. "Missing 16 year old high school student from Broken Bow, Nebraska. Sheriff says thinks there may be cultists involved. He's faxing over the stats now."

"Thanks, JJ. Get everything you can," he told her. "Meeting room in five."

"You got it."

"Ok, you heard her, " Gideon said. "Everyone out."

"Everyone meaning me," Morgan grinned.

Gideon smiled. "Everyone meaning you. Yes."

Morgan left and Jason helped them both to stand, the gesture letting them know that the rollplay was over. Pulling Jason to him, Hotch kissed the older man gently before reaching for Spencer with a tender look that immediately melted Spencer's heart, and doing the same.

"I'll go help JJ gather everything together and start Garcia on a broad internet search and meet you there," he offered, slipping out behind Morgan, leaving Spencer alone with Gideon who was still smiling.

"Come here," he beckoned, cupping Spencer's head in his hands and kissing him softly. Spencer sighed and melted into the embrace, wrapping his arms around Jason's waist. As the kiss thinned and finally broke, the young man sighed and concentrated on getting his mind back where it should be. Namely on the statistical probabilities of cultists of any kind around the general Nebraska area. At the moment he was coming up empty, but with any luck Garcia could cross reference the information the local sheriff would be providing and between the two of them, they could help narrow down the search.

Gideon chuckled, knowing he'd lost him. "Go on. Get yourself a new cup of coffee."

Head tilting slightly in confusion, Spencer asked lightly, "Coffee?"

"Think of it as a lesson on the rationality of the preemptive strike." Gideon only smiled and shook his head, chin pointing at the long since forgotten cup Spencer had poured a while ago sitting forlornly on his desk. "That one has to be cold by now."

Spencer laughed. He nodded, "Coffee it is," and with a sore bottom but lighthearted stride, Spencer headed out of Gideon's office and into a bright new day.


End file.
